Coffee House Blues
by Mr Sinister
Summary: On a day off, Storm goes to Harry's Hideaway, and has an unexpected encounter...


**_Coffee House Blues_**

   Ororo Munroe sat in the front section of Harry's Hideaway, sipping a small latte and reading the morning paper. She enjoyed these quiet moments a great deal, purely because she didn't get many of them – being a team leader for the X-Men didn't really give her a lot of personal time, and while she enjoyed spending time with her plants in the attic, or sitting around the lake with the rest of the team, she often found that being by herself in a public place gave her a unique opportunity to see the world she was sworn to save. Couples with young children sat around several tables, the children begging their parents for sweet, sugary things (without much success). Here and there, several young lovers were drinking coffee and looking into each other's eyes while chatting to each other, and Ororo briefly felt a stab of jealousy. She hadn't had much success with relationships in the past, given that her responsibilities had always been chiefly to the X-Men – and those men that _had_ showed an interest in her had frequently been either megalomaniacal or insane… or both. Briefly, she wondered if picking up the phone and giving Forge a call might perhaps make those demons go away, but then she realised that that ship had sailed, and wasn't about to return to port any time soon.

   She half-smiled, chiding herself for wanting something that she could not have. She had thought herself above those kinds of thoughts, but apparently she was just as flawed and human as the rest of the plain old _Homo sapiens _that were sat around her. She supposed that that was a comfort, in a way – it was often hard to see herself as "normal", when her powers set her so far apart from the rest of humanity. Lifting her coffee cup to her lips, she sipped a small mouthful of the dark, rich liquid, letting its flavour wash over her tongue. She smiled more broadly then, appreciating the coffee much more than she had done a few moments ago, and settled into reading the paper.

   Just then, someone said "Hi there… I hope I'm not disturbing you?" Slightly startled, Storm jerked her head up, to see a young man with fashionably-framed, opaque glasses standing in front of her, one hand clasping a thin white cane.

   "No… no, you're not disturbing me," Ororo replied, putting down the paper after folding it neatly in two. "What can I do for you?"

   "Well, I was just wondering if I could join you?" the young man said, before extending his hand. "My name's David – David Gellar."

   Ororo took the extended hand in her own, a little taken aback. "Ororo Munroe," she said. "I hope you realise that I don't often accept these kinds of invitations from strange men – least of all when I'm in the middle of my morning coffee." The young man looked downcast for a moment or two, so Ororo decided she had better allay his fears before he retreated. "But I can always make an exception, I suppose. Please, sit down." 

   The young man looked delighted then, and fumbled briefly for the edge of the chair closest to him with his free hand, pulling it out a little so that he could sit down. Then realisation seemed to flash across his face, and he flushed bright pink. "Forgot my coffee," he said sheepishly, and scurried off to another table close by, returning with a tray, on which was placed a coffee cup, a glass of orange juice, and a pastry. Carefully, he set them down on the table in front of him (remarkably confidently, Ororo noticed. Evidently he'd had experience with this kind of thing before), and took his seat again.

   "Hope this is okay," he said, a little out of breath. "It's just… well… I caught the scent of your perfume, and I thought anybody who wore that kind of scent had to be pretty interesting."

   Ororo smiled, deciding that this was the sort of line she liked to hear – even if it did seem intentionally transparent. "In that case, I think I should tell you that I don't usually wear perfume; this is a friend's fragrance, and I'm only borrowing it for today. She told me it would make me more attractive to men, for some reason."

   "Well, she was right," David replied, taking a quiet sip of his coffee. Now it was Ororo's turn to blush – she felt her cheeks prickling with warmth, and as she did so, she saw David's face split into a wide grin, and he tapped the side of his head knowingly. "Sometimes you can just tell these things." He took a bite out of his pastry and chewed it thoughtfully, as if he could sense Ororo's expression.

   "Really?" Ororo asked, intrigued. "Perhaps you should have yourself checked for the X-gene?"

   David laughed. "I should be so lucky. No, unfortunately, I'm just a plain, ordinary human. I spent my teenage years worrying about how I was going to shave without cutting my face to ribbons, not trying to jump over my parents' house."

   "I always like to think that there are no ordinary humans, just… different ones," Ororo said. "If there was such a thing as 'ordinary', then the world would be a very boring place, don't you think?"

   "Yeah. Yeah, I suppose it would be," David replied, tapping his cane against the leg of the table for a second or two. "So I guess I should begin the introductions, right?"

   "Please do," Ororo chuckled, before she sat back in her chair and focused herself completely on the man opposite her. She knew it was futile to do so, since he couldn't see her doing it, but she wanted to make the effort anyway. It felt wrong not to. "You have my undivided attention."

   "I'd better not waste it, then," David said, clearing his throat briefly. "Well, let's see… I grew up on Long Island, and then I went to ESU three years ago and got my degree in –" He paused suddenly, clearing his throat a little more. "You're gonna laugh at this," he said, and Ororo found herself unable to resist raising an eyebrow (again, even though she knew it was pointless to do so, she couldn't help herself).

   "I don't even know what you're going to say," she stated simply. "How could I possibly laugh at it?"

   David shrugged. "It's just… well, lots of people have laughed at it before, so I thought I'd warn you now. I graduated from ESU with a degree in… um… creative writing." He paused again, as if waiting for Ororo to laugh, but she didn't.

   "I think that's a very worthwhile degree," she said after a moment's pause. "It's very… multipurpose." David laughed softly.

   "You're probably the first person who's been positive about that degree ever since I graduated – my mom and dad hated it, and everybody else couldn't understand why I didn't do accountancy or finance instead."

   "Well, if you did not want to do that, why would you?" Ororo said, matter-of-factly. It seemed like an obvious choice to her, but then again, she'd never had to deal with parents in that way. "And what do you do now?"

   "I work for the Fire Department's switchboard," David replied. "Today's my day off, so I'm enjoying a quiet coffee. And talking to you, of course."

   Ororo supposed she should have spotted that line coming a mile off. "Of course."

   "So what about you?" David asked enthusiastically. "What's your story?"

   "Do you want the truth, or do you want the believable version?" Ororo said, feeling the prickling sensation in her cheeks again. "I am quite prepared to tell you either, but I'm just not entirely certain you would enjoy the first option. It is… lengthy, put it that way."

   David sat back in his seat and folded his arms. "I told you, it's my day off. If there's one thing I have plenty of right now, it's time – so I think I'll take option A, if that's all right with you?"

   "You asked for it," Ororo replied, before she put her folded hands on the table and continued "I was born here in the United States, but I grew up on the streets of Kenya after my parents died in a war… and when I was a teenager, I was worshipped as a goddess because of my mutant powers."

   "You're a mutant?" David seemed unfazed by the idea, which Ororo found very refreshing. "What's your gimmick, then?"

   "I can control the weather," Ororo stated simply, without pride. "I have an empathic connection to the Earth's biosphere, and if I choose, I can make it snow in the Bahamas, or create twenty-five degree heat in Alaska." As if to underline her point, she glanced at the window panel to her right and made a cloud rumble a little, a distinct grey hue coming over it in a matter of seconds as it swelled and prepared to drop a light smattering of rain onto Salem Centre. David raised his eyebrows over the rim of his glasses, a little taken aback.

   "Was… was that you?" he asked, swallowing a little nervously. 

   _He's got 'the look',_ Ororo thought, a little disappointed. _He's already afraid of me, and we haven't even been talking very long._ Aloud, careful not to let her fears show through in her voice, she said "Yes, that was me. I could make it snow, if you like?"

   "No, it's okay," David answered, adjusting his glasses so that they sat a little more easily on his nose. "I don't think the rest of Salem would be very happy if they got snow in June, do you?" He sipped a little more of his coffee, and then said "So you were worshipped as a goddess in Africa, and… then what happened? Sounds like you could only go downhill from there."

   Ororo paused. _Here comes the difficult part,_ she thought sourly. "I… I work with Charles Xavier at his school for the gifted."

   David laughed. "You mean you're one of the X-Men?" Ororo was about to deny all knowledge of such things when David held up a hand quickly. "You know, I might be blind, but I can still see a lot of things – especially what's right in front of my face. I've heard the news reports about a woman who can make it rain, guys with fur all over their bodies, and a man who's got pigstickers in the backs of his hands. You don't have to insult my intelligence by denying it." He smiled then, briefly, and chuckled. "You really think that fancy jet of yours passes us Westchester people by? I hear that thing pretty much every day, even when I'm on the phone."

   "Well, it seems you know more about me than I thought," Ororo said. "Is there any point in me trying to tell you I'm a completely different person to that woman you heard about on the news?"

   David shook his head. "Nope. None whatsoever."

   "Very well, then. For the record, however, I _am_ a completely different person to that woman – she has terrible taste in clothes. Awful."

   "Is that right?" David said, sounding as if he was humouring her. "I'll have to take your word for that. I've never met her, after all – and my taste in clothes is non-existent. I always look like I get dressed in the dark." After a brief pause, he added "Little joke I always like to wheel out from time to time… doesn't get any better than that, I'm afraid." He sipped at his coffee again, and, finding it was finished, held up the cup. "I'm going to get some more coffee – you want another?"

   "Oh, no thank you," Ororo replied. "I still have half a cup left to go."

   "Well, in that case," David said, setting his cup back in its saucer, "you tell me when you're done, and I'll go get some more for the both of us, okay?"

   "If you're sure," Ororo said, feeling quietly flattered again. "I mean, you really don't have to worry –"

   "But I want to," David told her firmly. "Really, it's no trouble. I still have some orange juice, after all." He reached forwards for the glass of orange juice he'd brought over, but his questing fingers weren't coming anywhere near it. Ororo quickly took his hand in hers and guided him towards it gently. She did not let go of his hand when she had done so, her fingers lingering in his grasp for a little longer than perhaps they should have done. She didn't feel that that was a bad thing, grasping his hand a little tighter as she did so. David returned her slightly stronger grip, saying "You know… if you keep doing this, people might start getting ideas."

   Ororo shrugged, more for herself than for him. "Let them," she said matter-of-factly. "I have never considered other people's opinions to be a valid reason to change the way I have lived my life. If they disapprove of something I have done, it's their problem, not mine." A memory struck her then, and she laughed at it. "Why, I once shaved my hair into a Mohawk and started to wear nothing but leather, just because I felt like doing it –"

   She was about to continue when she both felt and saw David raise her hand to his lips and gently plant a kiss on it. It stopped her sentence in mid-flow, for which she congratulated him. That didn't happen very often, so it came as a double surprise. "What was that for?" she asked him, a little puzzled.

   "Oh… I just felt like doing it," he replied, a mischievous smile crossing his blind face. "I hope you didn't mind."

   "No… no, I didn't mind," Ororo said, still a little stunned. "It was just… a bit of surprise, that's all."

   "Good," David told her, squeezing the hand still in his grasp quickly. "I was hoping it'd come off that way. I mean, who knows what kind of ESP powers you have – you might have seen it all coming."

   Ororo smiled. "I don't have any ESP powers, I'm afraid. You have the wrong girl."

   "Dare I ask which girl I have?" David chuckled. "Or don't I want to know?"

   "You don't want to know," Ororo intoned darkly, before leaning forwards and hesitantly planting a soft kiss on David's cheek. "See?"  
   "What was that for?" he asked, touching the place where she had brushed her lips against his skin with his free hand.

   "I just felt like it," Ororo laughed. "Perhaps I do have ESP powers after all… I definitely saw that one coming." 

   "I guess I should have anticipated that," David replied, a small smile flitting quickly across his face. Then, he nodded towards the door. "You want to get out of here?"

   "I thought you wanted some more coffee?" Ororo asked, feeling a little nonplussed. David shrugged. 

   "Up to you, I guess. I never really needed that second cup, anyway – I get hyper on too much coffee, anyway. Usually start hitting things with my cane." He laughed softly, and swung experimentally at an invisible passer-by with his white-painted cane. "I thought I'd spare you that… unless you want to see me in all my caffeine-addicted glory, that is?"

   "No, I think I should leave that for later," Ororo said, both eyebrows raised. "Where did you have in mind?"

   David shrugged. "Oh, nowhere – I thought we could just… walk, and see where we end up. That sound okay to you?"

   "I suppose so." Ororo paused a moment, and then added "Of course, I do reserve the right to make adjustments to the plan if I see fit."

   "Wouldn't have it any other way," David said, holding both hands up breezily. He got up out of his seat then, and offered her his arm. "So shall we go?" he asked her.

   "I'd be delighted to," Storm told him, slipping her arm into the crook of his elbow and walking with him out of the front door to Harry's, feeling the welcome kiss of the breeze as she left the busy coffee house behind her. Carefully, she waited until David had walked through the door, and then began to pace slowly down the street with him as he reflexively moved his cane from side to side, in order to warn him of any obstructions in his path. Closing her eyes for a second, she willed the small rain-clouds she had summoned earlier to dissolve, letting brilliant rays of sunshine splash down onto the pavement in front of her. As she did so, David smiled broadly, the heat of the sun's rays warming his face and making him walk a little more briskly.

   "Using your powers again?" he asked her quietly.

   "Yes," she replied. "How could you tell?"

   "Well, the temperature just rose about five degrees and the wind just got slower, for a start," he replied. "Don't underestimate what your other four senses can tell you. Sight's not everything, you know."

   "I suppose it isn't," Ororo pondered, thoughtfully. "Did you ever have it – your sight, I mean?"

   "No," David said simply. "I was born blind, so I had a pretty difficult childhood – there were always kids around who wanted to pick on the little blind boy so they could look tough. But then again, I learned how to handle myself pretty well after the third or fourth beating." He held up his cane. "This thing might not look like much, but if you manage to find the right spot, it can be quite a handy weapon. Trust me, I sent quite a few little boys running for their moms with this. They were singing soprano longer than you'd have expected thanks to me." He suddenly gripped Ororo's arm more tightly, and manoeuvred her away from a fire hydrant that she was about to trip over. "Watch your step," he said briskly. "You have to learn where those kinds of things are as well, or you end up falling over far too often. I got tired of cuts and bruises after the first ten falls, I'll tell you that for nothing."

   Fascinated, Ororo reached up to a small scar she had just noticed on David's forehead, and touched it gently to show her interest. "Is that why you have this?" she asked hesitantly, unsure whether she had just unwittingly crossed a boundary without permission. Fortunately, David seemed untroubled by her question, and nodded briefly.

   "Yes – that one was from when I was four years old. I fell flat on my face in the yard outside my parents' house, and managed to hit my head on the only big rock on the entire lawn. I remember feeling all the blood running down my face and crying, because I didn't know where my parents were. Fortunately, my mom found me pretty quickly, and she managed to get me to a local ER where they could stitch me back up." He rubbed at the scar reflexively. "Still didn't make for a very good Thanksgiving Day, though."

   "That doesn't sound like a very good way to spend Thanksgiving, does it?" Ororo agreed softly. 

   "My mom told me later that she'd managed to get me to the ER, get me fixed up, and get me home just in time for the turkey to cook, but I really doubt that happened just like she said it did… I think she only told me that so I'd feel less guilty about mashing my face up on Turkey Day."

   "Well, isn't that what parents are for?" Storm pointed out. "I was orphaned when I was very young, but I always thought that parents were supposed to make their children feel better whenever they got hurt. Isn't that right?"

   David nodded after a moment's thought. "Yes… yes, I suppose it is," he said, a contemplative look crossing his face for a second or two. "She certainly did that… she read me _The Cat In The Hat_ as soon as we got home, and didn't give me enough time to realise I still had a huge bandage taped to my forehead – and by the time I did, it was turkey time. Great, huh?" Suddenly, he reached into his wallet, rummaging for a little plastic case of some kind. Opening it, he pulled out a small card that had his name and telephone number on it, and offered it to Ororo. "Um… look, I hope you don't think I'm being too forward in giving you this, but before I forget, this is my number. I've really enjoyed myself so far this morning, and I hope we can see each other again – for a proper date, I mean." He paused uncertainly. "If… if that's okay, that is."

   Ororo took the card and put it into her purse, after briefly reading over the details printed on it. "That would be… very okay, thank you." 

   Inwardly, she felt very glad she had ventured out for coffee that morning…


End file.
